


Care

by orphan_account



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:52:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Porthos and Phobos get up to after the leaving the mess hall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Care

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Royal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Royal/gifts).



> Happy birthday, RP! Sorry it's a little late! <3 <3 <3

Phobos barely waited for the mess hall door to hiss shut behind them before he said, "What an  _animal_!"

Porthos cleared his throat, maybe about to say something, but Phobos kept talking, kept walking quickly down the hall, away from the cafeteria. "Did you see him come at me?" he asked, knew full-well he had since he'd stepped in before anything could happen. "If you hadn't been there—"

"He wouldn't have done anything," Porthos said, voice low and steady. Phobos could practically feel Porthos' gaze boring into the side of his head, but he didn't look round. "Abel wouldn't have let him."

Phobos snorted, tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

"You're shaking."

Phobos faltered, still didn't meet Porthos' gaze as he snorted and clasped his hands behind his back. "You're seeing things."

"Phobos—"

"You don't think he'd have tried anything?" Phobos asked, kept his tone casual, kept his gait steady as he walked.

Porthos snorted. "No. Not like he'd be able to, anyway."

Phobos just barely kept from sighing; not the answer he wanted at all. "You aren't with me all the time," he said.

He should have expected it when Porthos grabbed his arm and pulled him up short. Porthos was always predictable, always wanted to stop and talk and hold Phobos down until Porthos was satisfied he was as calm as Porthos wanted him to be. Phobos still caught himself trying to decide whether he loved that or hated it.

"Are you worried about him?" Porthos asked, glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice; always on the lookout.

Phobos gritted his teeth and glanced away. "Ugh, never mind. Just drop it." He waited for Porthos to let go, but he held firm to Phobos' arm, then suddenly he was dragging Phobos away, pushing him into a nearby storage unit and sliding in after him, the door closing.

"I want to go back to my room," Phobos said, looking Porthos square in the eye now, not backing down, daring him to stay where he was.

Porthos just smiled, and that riled Phobos more than anything else that had happened that day. "I'll always be here," he said, reached down and gripped one of Phobos' hands, trying to draw him in.

"I don't care," he said, tried to make it hurt, didn't let Porthos pull him closer because Porthos was blocking his only exit and pissing him off and Phobos was fucking tired of it.

The smile dissolved, but Porthos kept his hand tight around Phobos'; didn't try to pull him closer. "I can take care of him," he said. "He won't touch you."

Phobos believed that; couldn't help but believe it with Porthos' wide shoulders and intimidating stance. Phobos let his eyes wander back to Porthos face, and then Porthos' little smile was back, and when he tugged on Phobos' hand again, he went willing.

He was still on edge, jittery; the only thing keeping his hands from shaking again was Porthos' tight grip. He'd heard rumors about the Reliant's fighter; just like everyone else—that he was dangerous and brash and had become the best fighter by brute force alone.

So when Phobos finally let Porthos pull him closer, he wasn't content to stay still, pressed against his chest; he gripped a hand tight in the hair at the back of Porthos head and dragged him down. He kissed him fast, hard, their teeth clacking together, but it didn't matter with Porthos strong arms wrapping around him, dwarfing Phobos with his size and strength.

Phobos loved it, loved it when Porthos hauled him up, lifted Phobos until he was standing on the tips of his toes, most of his weight supported by Porthos' arms around him and leaning hard against his chest.

"Fuck," Porthos muttered when they broke apart, adjusting his grip on Phobos to thread one hand through his hair.

Phobos gasped, slid both hands down and started to fumble with the button of Porthos pants, struggling to get it open with his hands still shaking, with how close they were pressed together.

"Phobos," Porthos said, dropped Phobos back to his feet and leaned down to nip at his ear. "Are you sure? Right now?"

Phobos nodded frantically, finally managed to get Porthos' pants open and pushed a hand down the front, gripping his quickly hardening cock, turning his face to find Porthos' mouth again and push his tongue inside.

Porthos made a muffled noise, gripped both of Phobos' arms and led them up around his shoulders. He turned them, pushing Phobos against the wall and hoisting him up. Phobos got the idea, wrapped his legs around Porthos' waist and dragged him closer. They were on a level now; Porthos able to kiss him without leaning down, able to grind his hips against Phobos' until they were both panting.

"I want it," Phobos said when they broke apart, flushed and hard and needing, scratching his nails across the back of Porthos' neck and watching him shudder.

Porthos nodded, dropped him suddenly so Phobos' feet hit the floor with a thud. He made an annoyed noise, glared, but then Porthos was undressing him sloppy and fast; getting his shirt open and then abandoning it to shove his pants down to his ankles. Phobos stepped out of his shoes and then kicked his pants away, watched as Porthos fumbled in the pocket of his pants and pulled out a little packet of lube.

"Really?" Phobos asked, voice flat.

Porthos fell on him again, shoved him up against the wall, gripped one of Phobos' thighs and bent it up, wedging it between their bodies. His other hand pressed lower, fingers slick and warm when they slid into him quick; quicker than Phobos was expecting.

He gasped, arched his back, dropped his hips when Porthos pulled his fingers out; trying to keep him inside.

"Yes, really," Porthos said, and it took a moment for Phobos to remember what he was referring to with Porthos pushing back in again; Phobos too distracted with the full, sweet pressure. "If you didn't want to get fucked so often," Porthos said, breathing fast against Phobos' hair, his fingers flexing and curling inside Phobos, making him squirm and push his hips back, trying to feel it deeper.

"Sorry to put you out," Phobos muttered, barely coherent, trying to keep the thread of the conversation with Porthos fucking him fast and hard; long fingers pushing in deep.

Porthos laughed, breathless and barely there. When he pulled out, Phobos whined, legs trembling, whole body sagging against the wall as Porthos stepped back and fumbled with his pants. He hissed when he got his cock out, stroking himself slowly with his slicked hand. Phobos just watched, had to close his mouth and swallow when Porthos grabbed at him again, lifting him and letting Phobos wrap around him, kiss him again.

Then there was pressure; Porthos lining them up. He loosened his grip on Phobos just a bit, let gravity do the work in pressing into him in one slow stroke.

Phobos cried out, couldn't help it, felt too fucking good to be spread open and fucked, felt like forever since they'd done this even when it hadn't been twenty-four hours; Porthos was right no matter how much Phobos wanted to deny it—Phobos always needed him.

Porthos found his mouth again then, and Phobos had a moment to wonder if he was only kissing him to shut him up before he decided he didn't care. He wrapped his arms tighter around Porthos' shoulders as Porthos fucked him slow and deep; rocking into him, one of his hands snaking between them to slip under Phobos' shirt and touch the hot skin of his chest and stomach.

When they had to break for air, Porthos pressed his face into the crook of Phobos' neck; face flushed and breath hot and damp. His tongue flicked out, wetting the skin, sucking a dark bruise against Phobos' shoulder before he shifted, got distracted and leaned back too far, his cock slipping out of Phobos.

Phobos whined, tried to grind backward, so fucking hard and empty, trembling all over.  _"Porthos."_

Porthos grunted, not an apology but maybe something close to it, wrapped both arms around Phobos' waist and hoisted him up as if it were nothing, barely any strain. Phobos whined again, hotter and harder with Porthos handling him so easily, squirming against his grip, trying to get down.

"Let me—" he started to say, trying to put his feet on the floor and turn around, bend over and make it easier for both of them to get what they wanted.

"No, no, like this, " Porthos said, shaking his head, holding Phobos firm, face-to-face. He lined his cock up again and let Phobos sink onto it; so fucking deep again.

Then they were rocking together, Porthos kissing his neck and jaw, pressing Phobos hard against the wall, both of them flushed and panting. Porthos trailed his lips over Phobos' cheek, finding his mouth and kissing him sloppy and went and off-center. Phobos moaned, wrapped a hand through the longer hair at the back of Porthos head to pull him even closer, hot tongues sliding together, couldn't even be bothered with Porthos gasping into his mouth, lips occasionally shifting to catch at his cheek and chin.

Then suddenly Porthos groaned, hips stuttering erratically, arms shaking where they were pressed around Phobos. He came with a bite to Phobos neck, his warmth filling Phobos up and making him shudder, Porthos' thrusts sliding even slicker than before as he worked himself through it.

When it was over, he sighed, seemed content to just stay there breathing against Phobos neck. Then Phobos was squirming again, tightening the hand in Porthos' hair.  _"Porthos."_

He laughed again, muffled and warm across Phobos' neck before he moved his hips again, slowly, reached between them and grip Phobos' cock in his big hand. He stroked him slow until Phobos glared, jerked his hips up between them and silently demanded more. So Porthos gripped him harder, stroked him faster; always reluctant to touch Phobos as roughly as he wanted—as he needed, rarely ever did it until Phobos made him.

Phobos came when Porthos kissed him again; fast and hot, his tongue pushing hard and wet against his, cock still pressed in him deep. He had to turn his face away to breathe, to gasp and moan as he spilled over Porthos' hand, his legs aching and trembling where they were still pressed tight around Porthos' torso.

Then Porthos pulled out of him; too fast, leaving Phobos empty and gaping, his feet falling hard to the floor when Porthos stepped away.

"Sorry," Porthos said, grabbing Phobos arms to keep him upright. "You all right, baby?

Phobos nodded, tried halfheartedly to shake Porthos off, didn't really care when he didn't go anywhere. Porthos helped him put his clothes back together, standing close and breathing against his hair, hands straying across Phobos' stomach and ass and thighs.

"I can do it," he snapped eventually, Porthos more of a hindrance than a help, his touch too distracting.

Porthos only smiled, took a moment to put his own clothes together, watching Phobos closely. Phobos ignored him, straightened the cuffs of his sleeves and smoothed down the front of his jacket.

He jumped when Porthos said something, voice cutting across the quiet of the storage unit. "You don't have to worry about him," he said, and as if that wasn't enough to raise Phobos' hackles, added, "I'll always take care of you."

He glanced up, met Porthos' gaze. He didn't look amused anymore, just standing there with his arms by his sides, his eyes wide and earnest.

Phobos swallowed, ran his hands through his hair and edged toward the door. "I never asked you to."

Porthos barked out a laugh, just stood there as Phobos brushed past him. Phobos got the door open and was about to step outside into the empty hallway, but he paused when Porthos didn't follow. He glanced back, meeting his gaze. "Well?"

Porthos didn't do anything, just kept watching him. Phobos sighed, ducked back into the storage unit to grab Porthos' hand and pull him forward. Phobos kissed him quick and fast, barely anything; just a smear of lips. He pulled away when Porthos tried to press forward, tugging him out into the hallway and then dropping his hand.

They walked together in silence, Porthos close to his side the whole way to Phobos' room. He was about to leave, about to open the door and disappear inside, but then paused. He glanced around before straightening and kissing Porthos again, just as fast as before, just because. Porthos kept him close when Phobos leaned away, brushed the tips of his fingers across Phobos cheek before he smiled.

Phobos was about to say something, something about Porthos being a sap and how would he ever _take care of him_  if he got too soft, but then Porthos' smile widened, and the words died on Phobos tongue. He let Porthos catch a lock of his hair as his temple and tug gently; playful. Then Phobos stepped back into the room, and Porthos waited until the door was closing before he walked away. 


End file.
